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Indiscretions

Copyright
2019 by Richard Raven & Richard Alan Long

Published
by Richard Raven at Smashwords

This publication is a work
of fiction. Names, characters, places businesses and incidents
are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance or reference made to actual places,
businesses, events or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

ISBN:
9780463613948

Smashwords
Edition License Notes

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Dedication

To our friends,
families, and loved ones who keep us sane and encourage us to write.

Acknowledgements

First
and foremost, thanks to James H. Longmore, Xtina Marie, and everyone
at HellBound Books who made it possible that we each had a story
placed in the anthology, Demons, Devils and Denizens of Hell,
Volume 2. That piece of good fortune is the reason for and what
lead to this collaborative effort. Thanks and gratitude to Theresa
Scott-Matthews for her unfailing belief in us as writers, and for her
usual fantastic job of editing. Thanks, also, to Becky Narron for
her constant encouragement and for all the other reasons that make
her such a special lady.

Indiscretions

Flight 619 from Miami kissed the runway at Memphis International
around one-twenty on a Thursday afternoon. It was a little before
two when April Kincaid emerged from the terminal. A stylish leather
attaché case in one hand, a pair of carry-on overnight bags gripped
in the other, her purse slung from one shoulder; sporting a south
Florida tan. She had dressed casually for the flight in dark
clinging slacks (no sign of panty lines), a pale sleeveless blouse,
and flat-heeled strappy sandals. Her long and thick mane of glossy
black hair, a look she thought much better for her than her natural
and drab chestnut, flipped about her face in the warm breeze.

She paused on the
sidewalk and lifted her face to the sun, loving the way it felt on
her skin. Comfortably warm, humidity low; couldn’t have asked for
a better day. She sighed and looked around, spotting the shuttle
that would take her to her rental car. Securing a better grip on her
bags, she began picking her way through the milling crowd.

After only a few steps
she looked up, hesitated, then drew to a stop, her pale blue eyes
peering at the Memphis skyline in the distance. A sight still as she
remembered it. Not that much had ever seemed to change about the
city. Toward the end of the time she had spent there as April Scott,
she had begun to find the city painfully dreary and stifling. No
place for a woman with a college degree and aspirations, who had
found herself in the role of a suburban housewife. There were
times…so many times, when she felt like she was losing her mind.
Happy enough to leave that life and the city and her ex-husband
behind. Her only regrets were leaving the few close friends she made
and the way she had failed to stay in touch with them.

But April wasn’t big
on regrets. Why bother? A waste of time, for the most part, and
usually of things better off left in the past and forgotten.

But memories…now that
was a different story. She had some good memories of her time in
Memphis. As she continued staring at the skyline, one of the better
ones—a rather juicy and stirring recollection it was, too—buzzed
pleasantly in her head. She had met the man at a party. A party her
husband didn’t attend, tied up with work, as always. A long time
ago, and though she’d had a few stiff drinks—more than a few, to
speak the truth, to relax her and kill her inhibitions—she still
remembered most of the night clearly.

Most of it, but not all
of it. The last hour or so, once she and the man had left the party
in his car sometime before midnight, was a little blurry in places.
April did remember getting home and finding her husband sound asleep,
none the wiser. Everything else she remembered of that night and the
man she spent it with…

…she would never
forget it. The man wanted her from the moment he laid eyes on her.
Emboldened by the alcohol and the way he kept pressing up against her
and the way his hands so unobtrusively kept creeping under her skirt,
she finally could resist him no longer, and took him to an empty
bedroom. He had fucked her from behind, his pants around his ankles,
as she bent over the foot of the bed, her skirt hiked up past her
waist. As best she could remember, they had done it twice more at
his place before she took a taxi home. She might have left her
panties at his place, as she didn’t make it home with them and she
could never find that pair again.

The experience had
served as her wake-up call. The first of many such encounters that
ultimately led to her divorce and her leaving Memphis.

Out with the old and
stale; in with the new and exciting.

The more she thought
about it, the more intense the memory became. There was a feeling of
heat, raw and powerful, rushing through her, touching her and
caressing her in all the right places. A more arousing venture back
to the past than she had anticipated; she finally had to shake her
head, dispelling the memory.

No time for this; she
had things to do. In town on business, she had phone calls to make,
an appointment to confirm; a hotel room and some time under a hot
shower waiting for her. As she would be in town overnight, she was
also faced with finding an interesting way of spending it. No TV or
boring movie for her, either. A couple of ideas were bouncing around
in her head, provided she could locate one or possibly all three of
her old girlfriends and re-connect with them, if only for one night.
She only hoped the numbers she had for them were still good.

There was only a couple
of other people on the shuttle. She took a seat in back and fished
her cell out of her purse to make the first of her calls. The
hardest one first, the one she had been dreading since getting on the
plane in Miami. Well, maybe dreading was too strong a word, but
still a rotten piece of luck and she wasn’t looking forward to the
conversation.